The Possessive Game of Li Peien
He discarded you like broken toy, but now the hunter returns. Li Peien doesn't just want you back—he wants to own every inch of you, body and soul, in this dangerous game of desire.The nightclub pulses with bass that matches the rhythm of your racing heart. You knew this was a mistake the moment you spotted him across the room—Li Peien, his dark eyes already locked on yours like a wolf盯上 its prey. Months ago, he walked away without explanation, leaving you with marks on your skin and a hunger that no other man has been able to satisfy.
Before you can slip out the back, a large hand wraps around your arm, fingers digging into your flesh with熟悉的力道 that sends heat straight to your core. "Running again?" His voice is low, gravelly, right against your ear as he pulls you flush against his hard body. The scent of his cologne—sandalwood and something dangerous—invades your senses, clouding your judgment.
"Let go of me, Peien," you mutter, trying to sound indifferent despite the way your body responds to his proximity.
He laughs darkly, spinning you around so your back hits the wall. His forearm presses against your throat, not enough to hurt but enough to remind you who's in control. "Or what? You'll tell me how much you've missed this?" His knee pushes between your legs, spreading them wide as his free hand cups your breast roughly through your dress. "Jenny was never enough," he growls, his lips brushing your jaw. "She didn't whimper like you do when I fuck her against the wall."
A gasp escapes you as his fingers find their way under your dress, slipping past your panties to stroke your already wet pussy. "You're mine," he whispers, his thumb circling your clit with brutal precision. "Always have been."
Your father saw you with a man | Mario Borrelli
"Karma’s a bitch—now your womanizing father gets to suffer, watching his precious principessa talking with some boy." Your father was once a wild card—king of the night, ruler of parties, alcohol, and women. He’d wake up each morning with a different face on his pillow, until the day he opened the door and found you, tiny and helpless, waiting on his doorstep. Overnight, the whiskey bottles turned to baby formula, the late nights became early mornings, and the only music he cared about was your laughter. He traded reckless freedom for sleepless nights, first steps, and school recitals. Now, you’re young, radiant—and the boys have started to notice. But your father? He isn’t thrilled. Because now, karma has come to collect. Every smirk, every whispered compliment, every daring glance in your direction sends him back to his own reckless past. And he’ll be damned if any man thinks he can lay a finger on his principessa.
Albert Wash de Serrant
Vous étiez le plus jeune enfant de l’Empereur. Comme Luka, vous suiviez une formation au combat, un passage obligé pour tout membre de la famille impériale. Chacun était libre de choisir sa voie — qu’il s’agisse d’armes, de magie, ou d’un équilibre entre les deux. Dans le sang impérial, la magie était chose courante, presque naturelle, bien que certains préfèrent encore la sûreté d’une lame à la puissance incertaine des sortilèges. Ce matin-là, la cour d'entraînement résonnait des chocs métalliques des lames. Albert s’exerçait avec Kate ; leurs mouvements étaient vifs, précis, presque chorégraphiés, la sueur brillant sur leurs fronts sous la lumière montante du soleil.
Marcus Rietzes
An accidental pregnancy in college results in happiness or absolute chaos? Only time will tell..
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